


Baby Light My Fire

by BabysNotaProp (SuzetteB)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Coffee Shop Owner Castiel (Supernatural), Destiel Promptober, Firefighter Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Porn With Plot, Promptober, Promptober 2018, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzetteB/pseuds/BabysNotaProp
Summary: Castiel is surrounded by flames engulfing his coffee shop. Who is this handsome firefighter who comes to his rescue?





	Baby Light My Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I high-key am I total slut for this mashup. I'm not even sorry.
> 
> Written for Destiel Promptober 2018, enjoy!

Of all the thousands of ways Castiel imagined his day starting, a fire in his coffee shop was not one of them. The whole thing happened so fast, he didn’t notice until later that  _ he wasn’t the one who started the fire _ . Minding his own business, he started up the ovens and crossed the kitchen to begin making dough, but was alarmed at the unwelcome smell of plastic and metal being consumed by flames.

 

The smoke alarm went off, of course, along with the sprinkler system, which would’ve done the trick if this wasn’t a gas fire. Spreading madly, the blaze swallowed his walls and appliances and quickly surrounded him. He called 911 before reaching for his fire extinguisher, which was specially formulated for gas fires.

 

_ 911, what is the location of your emergency? _

 

Castiel nervously rattled off his shop’s address and told them the situation while attacking the growing fire with his class B extinguisher, which rapidly ran out of juice and left him trapped inside his kitchen. Looking all around him, he saw nothing but fire lapping at the floor and quickly approaching him.

 

“I’m trapped in the kitchen,” Castiel told the dispatcher with a shaky voice. The heat and smoke were starting to affect him. “Please, hurry.” He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and took off his apron and button up shirt to try and alleviate some of the warmth. His heart pounded as the voice on the other end told him a unit was on their way, but panic overtook him as the phone line went dead.

 

Looking at the counter, he witnessed the phone and electrical cords consumed, and the lights flickered before leaving him in a room lit only by the ferocious orange flames. Smoke seeped into the middle of the room and rose to the ceiling. He coughed, eyes burning, and laid flat on the floor, awaiting the inevitable. The fire had reached the ceiling, so it was only a matter of time before he was either crushed by his own building or suffocated by carbon dioxide.

 

The faint squeal of sirens pierced through the roar of fire, and as he blacked in and out of consciousness, the door to the kitchen was kicked open. The firefighter wasted no time scooping him up and tearing his oxygen mask off of his own face to press against Castiel’s. Taking a long gasp of air, he relaxed in his rescuer’s arms as he felt himself lifted and carried away.

 

Within moments, the heat and smoke and rumble of fire was gone, and he opened his eyes to see sunlight and a mess of emergency personnel hovered over him. The firefighter lifted off his helmet to reveal a relieved smile and smoky face crowned with emerald green eyes. He took the oxygen off Castiel’s mouth and yelled something to the folks in the rescue squad before looking down at him again.

 

“Sir, you’re alright,” the deep-voiced man said as Castiel tried to struggle out of his arms. “Just relax. That’s it. What’s your name?”

 

He coughed up a build up of soot that had collected in his throat. “Castiel,” he replied hoarsely. “Castiel Novak. My… Did you put out the fire?”

 

“Okay Castiel Novak,” the handsome firefighter began gently, still supporting him as EMTs carried over a stretcher and began fussing over him. “The good news is, you’re okay. I’m gonna try and talk these hospital-happy medics out of taking you away. The bad news is, your coffee shop isn’t. The fire was out of control by the time we got here. I’m sorry.”

 

Castiel’s heart sank. That cafe was his life’s work. He even slept there sometimes. 

 

Noting the business owner’s disappointment, his rescuer continued. “Look, I’ve seen a lot of fires up close and personal, just like that one. The amount of time between the start of the fire and when we got there -- that fire had no business spreading that quickly. I don’t think it was an accident.” He swallowed and waited for Castiel’s reaction, but he seemed numb to the news. Poor guy was still in shock, but this needed to be addressed so the police could get involved. “Castiel, do you have any enemies? Any rivals, perhaps, who would want to hurt your business?”

 

Castiel looked up into green eyes with realization. That pyromaniac, Lucifer from the competition four blocks closer to the city… In his gut, he  _ knew  _ that was it.

 

“What’s your name?” he asked the firefighter.

 

“Dean Winchester.” The smoke-covered brave man smirked and raised his brows flirtatiously.

 

“Well, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said with a small blush, “I think I need to talk to the police about this.” He cleared his throat and found himself looking all over Dean: his gear, hair, face. The he wondered how he must look: a mess of blackened clothes and sooty skin.

 

But Dean saw something quite different: a determined business owner who got caught in the middle of a nasty feud that someone had the intent of ending with his death. The arsonist planned the fire down to the last detail. He wanted it to start and end with Castiel in the kitchen. It was sick and twisted, but such were the inner workings of someone so jealous of the success of another.

 

After arguing back and forth with the EMTs, it was decided that Castiel didn’t need to go to the hospital after all, for which he was immensely grateful. After learning that Castiel didn’t really have anywhere else to go, since he slept in his car when he wasn’t sleeping in his cafe, Dean offered his couch as a temporary bed. Castiel was just relieved he wouldn’t have to pay hospital bills on top of dealing with business insurance claims, so when Dean suggested he come over, he was overwhelmed.

 

“Hey now Cas, can I call you that?” Dean asked as they entered his apartment across town. His shift had ended after the coffee shop incident, so after dropping off his gear at the station, he toted Cas back to his place while the rescued man took in shaky breaths the whole way there. “You’re alright. Hey, I’ll make your some tomato rice soup, like my mom used to make me.”

 

Cas exhaled through his nose, trying to calm himself. “Your mom sounds nice.”

 

Dean sat on his couch and crossed his fingers, a somber look washing over him. “She was.”

 

“Oh,” Cas gravelled. “I’m sorry.”

 

“She died in a fire,” Dean spouted. He didn’t know why he felt so comfortable with this man, but it just felt right. Cas was brave, kind, handsome, and a badass business owner. Maybe he deserved to know why Dean decided to get into fire and rescue in the first place.

 

Cas covered Dean’s hands with his own, calloused knuckles brushing roughly under his palms. Saving people was quite a beautiful calling, and he found himself softening around the man who had bolted in to save him, no questions asked. Dean had no idea what kind of person he was, but to him it didn’t matter. He had to save him. Although Cas knew Dean would do it for anyone, it didn’t stop the flutter in his stomach when he realized he had just been rescued by a hot firefighter. And now he was in his living room.

 

The next couple of hours involved tomato rice soup, increasingly comfortable conversation, a Friends rerun, and the two inching closer and closer until Dean was practically sitting in Cas’ lap. They laughed when one said something that was even marginally funny, just because they were so taken with each other. In the middle of one of Dean’s magically beautiful full-toothed laughs, Cas lunged forward and smacked a kiss on his bottom lip.

 

Dean paused to look down at the soft, welcoming lips, then grabbed Cas’ face to pull him in for a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. Cas climbed on top of Dean, straddling his lap, and chanced his tongue across Dean’s lips, to which he responded by delving into Cas’ mouth. The kiss grew deeper and deeper until Cas rocked against Dean’s hip and found their cocks hardening against each other.

 

“You do this with all the people you rescue?” Cas prodded mischievously as they began throwing clothes to the wayside.

 

The words and shirts over their heads were the only things keeping their mouths apart. “No,” Dean chuckled as he smashed their lips together again, the motions becoming more messy with each article of clothing removed. “I don’t… You’re just… Fuck…” Dean hooked his thumb under Cas’ chin and sucked at his neck. “My god you’re really somethin’, Cas.”

 

The vibration of Cas’ groan sent chills through Dean’s body, his cock twitching in his boxer briefs. The taste of Cas’ neck on his lips was intoxicating, and he found himself running his hands all over his back and shoulders, desperate to learn every dip and curve of muscle.

 

“Lay down,” Cas requested as he palmed Dean’s chest. 

 

Not even questioning it, Dean fell across the couch and watched as Cas pulled his boxer briefs down his legs and then stood up to step out of his own briefs. Cas’ cock was gorgeous, heavily bobbing against his lower stomach. Dean couldn’t help but stare, to which Cas took notice and smirked as he climbed between Dean’s legs.

 

“I bet you hardly ever get thanked properly for what you do,” Cas rumbled, kissing Dean’s inner thighs.

 

“Ohh fuck,” Dean hissed on his back. His heart skipped a beat as Cas sucked lightly at the thin skin connecting his leg and hip bone, mouth dangerously close to his leaking cock and cheek scruff burning his thighs. 

 

At last, Cas took Dean’s cock in his hands and guided the tip into his mouth. Dean let out a long moan, fighting the urge to buck his hips up. He fisted the pillow by his head and squinted his eyes shut, mouth locked open to let out every noise Cas drew out of him.

 

“Cas, we’re gonna piss off the neighbors,” Dean laughed.

 

Popping off Dean’s head before taking one of his balls in his mouth, Cas muttered, “I don’t give a fuck about your neighbors.”

 

Cas sucked Dean’s length til there was no air left in his cheeks. Cas tongued his slit, licked lightly, jacked him with his hands, and bobbed up and down until Dean was whimpering incoherent phrases. When Cas noticed Dean’s balls tightening, he took him in as far as he could go and swallowed around his tip. Dean grabbed onto his dark hair and fucked his face until he came screaming Cas’ name. 

 

Thick ropes of come coated Cas’ throat and dripped out of his mouth, but he stayed there until Dean fell limp and sighed satisfactorily. Thoroughly turned on by Dean’s hands and eyes and cock and  _ my god the sounds he made _ , Cas made a show of jacking himself off and spilling his seed onto Dean’s stomach.

 

“Holy shit,” Dean whispered at the sight. Cas’ cheeks were red with arousal and his come painted Dean’s body like a masterpiece. “Cas, you are fucking amazing.” After Cas raised his electric blue eyes to meet Dean’s, he collapsed next to him on the couch, giving no regard for the mess they had made. Dean was past the point of caring. Cas’ blowjob and masturbation was pornographic and filthy and so much better than anything Dean had ever dreamed of.

 

They stayed hazy and sated in each other’s arms until one of their stomachs started growling. Neither was sure who it was, but when they heard it, they realized how hungry they were.

 

“I can make a mean chicken parm,” Dean offered. He sat up, come drying and sticky against his stomach and chest. 

 

Cas smiled at his work and sat up, hair messy and somehow splattered with someone’s spend. “They do say firefighters are the best cooks.”


End file.
